


money where your mouth is

by kendrasaunders



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Las Vegas Wedding, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: Six hours ago, with all the grace and charm granted to a magical deviant, Charlie had leaned in across the table and had said, “Bet you don’t have the stones to marry me, Z.”| Charlie thinks the best way to propose is to dare Zari to marry her in the middle of a Las Vegas vacation (Zari was here for the BUFFETS, damn it). Except that they’re both totally down with get hitched like, right now immediately.





	money where your mouth is

Six hours ago, with all the grace and charm granted to a magical deviant, Charlie had leaned in across the table and had said, “Bet you don’t have the stones to marry me, Z.”

And this hadn’t been out of character for Charlie, it’s just that Zari had followed Charlie to Vegas for the Buffets, specifically. Like, had made that abundantly clear.

So Charlie’s dare, or marriage proposal as it were, had come right as Zari had been tucking in to some really incredible garlic bread.

Zari had managed, still very much in the Garlic Bread Zone, to say “What?” Which had come out like “Wuf?” past the bread. Charlie hadn’t offered much of a follow up, just one of those infuriating winks as she plopped back down in her seat.

Charlie’s big on the open bars and the roulette tables, and honestly there’s pools and buffets upon buffets, so Zari’s been completely content. Save for the few dozen texts from their teammates, who are very unhappy to be left behind, the entire thing’s been pretty amazing.

And so Zari hadn’t really had the proper bandwidth, in that moment, to process Charlie’s request. She’d had so much more food to get through, and had been unsure if Charlie had meant right in that moment. Zari couldn’t have just _left_ her _food_. That would’ve been _insane_.

Zari had instead tucked it into her thoughts, a pencil behind the ear. Useful in a moment, but not right now. She had needed to see if Charlie shifted in her seat, if the lack of an answer had made her nervous. She’d needed to know if Charlie meant it, if she had been saying something by it, or if she had just been doing the Charlie thing, saying something very weighty like it had no heft at all.

And, again. Truly luxurious garlic bread. The shame in abandoning it? Too much.

So Charlie had tucked back into her Mousse, chocolate on a raspberry gelatin, and had watched Zari with the same kind of focus. 

“Is it a dare?” Zari had asked.

“Is what a dare?” Charlie had replied.

“Your question.”

Charlie had held her fork at a 45 degree angle, like a lightning rod looking to attract the proper response. “I guess,” Charlie had said, more thoughtful than Zari had been used to hearing. “I think it is a dare, Z. I really do bet that you don’t have the raw gall to marry me.”

“That’s not a good way to propose,” Zari had said, the first thing that had popped into her head. Maybe a mistake. Maybe not.

There had been a flicker of petulance on Charlie’s face, a sort of pout that had been entirely cute and entirely planning something. She’d crossed her arms, fully childish, tucked her legs under her seat.Charlie had grumbled under her breath. A sure promise of a plan.

 

 

Charlie had waited a full hour and a half, maybe like an hour and thirty two minutes, a walk down yet another brightly lit, endlessly long path of shops. She’d taken Zari’s hand and stopped, that thing she did where she liked to fling herself directly into Zari’s path. 

Zari had enough experience to recognize the _thought_ that flickered, starry in Charlie’s eyes. The full conception of a scheme, now playing out. And Zari had simply asked, “What?”

Charlie had grinned at her, held Zari’s hand tightly in her own. Had brought it under her chin, resting on their hands. “What are we going to wear, then?”

Zari had run her tongue against her lower teeth, a measured opening and shutting of her mouth. “For what?”

It hadn’t been a deterrent, not even close. “Do you really want a ring that badly?” She’d asked. “Seems pretty materialistic, Z.”

“You’ve got like, ten rings,” Zari had said, not really meaning much by it except the obvious. “And it’s not even the ring that I care about.”

“Fine,” Charlie had said, and dropped to her knee so quickly her skirt had flared around her hips. She picked the ring on her right index finger, a silver skull with little red gems for eyes. “Zari Tomaz.”

Zari felt her entire body go hot at once, a sense of surprise so deep in her bones it had felt sort of like she had been sweating. “Oh, I-“ And honestly, it had been a logical step for Charlie, and Zari could’ve kicked herself for that. The decision had been made on Charlie’s end, a very strong yes, let’s get married. “Right here?”

“Get the guts to marry me,” Charlie had said. “It’ll be fun.”

“People are-“ Zari had taken Charlie’s hand in her own, the one holding the ring, had wrapped her fingers around it. The tiny crowd gathering had been expected. This had hardly been the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done in front of a group of mostly normal-seeming people. She could’ve kept using it as an excuse, a deflection, could’ve brought up that it was late, already nine at night, or that she hadn’t thought about it, really, past the first proposal Charlie had come up with at dinner.

But the thing had been that the word _yes_ came to her thoughts easily, without the need to parse it over. She had simply decided yes, at once, in a heartbeat. It hadn’t needed any extra time. “I guess I’ll get,” Zari had said, taking the ring and putting it on herself. Charlie had the skinniest fingers, her index finger’s ring had barely fit Zari’s left hand. “A suit. Not a tux, though.”

There had been, of course, the appropriate clapping, the cheers, but there had also been Charlie’s prize-winning grin and the sudden excitement of her crushing, wonderful kiss. “Suit’s perfect,” Charlie had said. “Don’t want to make too much of a thing out of it.”

Zari’s arms had naturally found their way around Charlie’s waist, pulling her close. “What about you?” Zari had said. “I’m seeing something with studs.”

“Oh,” Charlie had said. “I’m thinking something black.”

 

 

Two hours ago, they’d started getting ready by taking a shower.

Zari had stood on shaky legs, breaths coming in short, gasping. She hadn’t asked Charlie to press her against the shower tile, fingers against Zari’s inner thigh, lips at her ear.

Charlie had said, “Couldn’t help myself, babe. Too excited.” And Zari had understood the feeling intimately, the marrow-deep need to bury her face in Charlie’s pussy in that exact moment, the ache of love and longing that came out as a low, needy groan.

She’d let Charlie keep her pinned there, fingers just teasing her outer lips, and Charlie had asked, “What’s the policy? Fucking the bride before her wedding, I mean. Is that wrong?”

“No,” Zari had whimpered, leaning back, weight against Charlie’s body. “It’s not wrong at all, it’s perfect-“

“I think we should wait,” Charlie had said, only because she had felt Zari radiating with need, and the teasing had been too good to resist. “You’re a proper gal, Z. Want to make you my woman, first. Officially.”

And that had been like some kind of secret code phrase, taking something in Zari and amping it up to 1000, Zari had grabbed Charlie’s wrist and pulled her, switching positions and pushing Charlie up against the wet tiles of the shower wall. “Let me show you,” Zari had said, entire body buzzing with joy, practically alight. “How I’m going to make you _my_ woman.”

Charlie had squirmed under her gaze, a delighted, eager kind of expression. Charlie had always been too much for Zari too handle, so overwhelming that the only way Zari properly felt she could express herself was with love and touching and _fucking._

“Kiss me,” Zari had demanded, and as Charlie did Zari had found it all too easy to slip two fingers into Charlie’s pussy, not a full fuck but enough that as Charlie had whimpered, Zari had nipped the sounds out of her mouth. 

“You’re _mine,_ ” Zari had said. “You’re _my_ wife.”

“Fuck,” Charlie had said, half distracted by Zari’s mouth and half trying to impale herself on Zari’s fingers. “If I’d known you’d be this into it, I would’ve proposed to you ages ago.”

“Maybe you should’ve,” Zari said, Charlie’s satisfied moans driving Zari’s fingers deeper. 

 

 

They’d put their names down the list, as Elvis was always very busy, especially on the late nights. on the waiting list and had been told it would be half an hour. And they’d been that kind of giddy that Zari hadn’t entirely expected. She had expected maybe more nerves, but had also thought that maybe she’d fucked them out, replaced them with a warm buzz that she had felt all over.

The bouquet was simple, the fastest thing of red roses she and Charlie could grab. 

Zari hadn’t asked where Charlie had gotten the rings. She’d just seen them, and they were _nice._ Too nice. Suspiciously so.

It had been completely on brand for what she’d expected from Charlie.

But she’d caught sight of the other couples, and their groups, and she’d been thinking about it. And she’d said, “We have to text them.”

Charlie had let out a sort of noise of distaste, curling her upper lip. She’d gone for black on black, her lipstick as dark as the slip of a dress she’d managed to find. “But it’s _our_ vacation.”

“Yeah, and they were already super bummed we went without them,” Zari says. “If they miss this, Ray’s gonna cry.”

“He’s going to cry if he’s here,” Charlie had protested, but considered it. “Fine,” she’d said, like it had really been hard for her.

“You’re getting soft, Charlie,” Zari had teased, but the text had been sent out before Charlie could properly come up with a retort. 

**TEXT TO:** Group | I Have Been Personally Victimized by Hank Heywood

**FROM:** Z-Force

GETTING MARRIED IN 24 MINUTES. ELVIS IS HERE. B THERE OR B SQUARE   
  


And then everyone had fallen through the ceiling.

Okay. Maybe a little closer to the ground. But they hadn’t used the portal properly, was the point.

“I still don’t know how the thing-“ Sara had glared at the courier, dusting off her jeans. “I _thought_ that was the entrance.”

“Really smooth work,” Charlie had said. “Glad you could make it.”

Ray had stood up with a kind of enthusiastic flourish, and had very seriously told them, “I love weddings. I would’ve done anything to be here.”

“You just found out,” Zari had checked her phone clock. “Forty seconds ago.”

“Hey, is it offensive to have an Elvis impersonator this close to Natie?” Charlie had asked. He’d made a face at her, she’d made one back, and it had been a very good bonding moment for them. They’d pretending like John hadn’t found it funny. It hadn’t been _about_ him.

“If you’d just let me-“ Ava had taken the courier back with no small amount of apology. “I wanted to put something nice on!” 

“We didn’t have that kind of time,” Sara had said. 

“I don’t even know where to start on that statement,” Ava had said. And Sara had bumped her hips against Ava’s own, and Ava, pretending she hadn’t found it adorable, said, “So… did you plan this?”

“No,” Charlie had said. “I dared Z to marry me and she decided to.”

Zari had held up her hand, showing Charlie’s skull ring for all to see.

“The things people will do for a dare,” John had added, looking at the ring. “You really got her on that one, Charles.”

“So romantic,” Ray had said, meaning it fully.

“How?” Nate had asked.

Mick had simply said, “So-“

And Charlie said, “Bar’s in the lobby, make a round trip.”

“Well,” Zari had said, and the excitement had kind of amplified, like she could feel it on everyone else, too. “Anyone else feel like getting married right now?”

Sara had started to raise her hand, sparing Ava a very purposeful glance that Ava had just begun to return-

“Well, don’t,” Charlie had said. “It’s our night.”

“Oh,” Sara had replied. “Was that rhetorical?”

“It hadn’t been on my end,” Zari had said.

“Is there cake after this?” Nate had asked.

“There’s a 24 hour buffet,” Zari had said. 

Charlie, very proud of herself, had said, “That’s where I proposed!”

“You said it was a dare,

“She proposed in a mall,” Zari had replied. “Very shortly thereafter.”

Ava had taken a moment for that. “Ah.”

Zari had nodded, “Very scenic,” she had said, like her heart hadn’t been pounding the entire time it was happening.

“Then we bought clothes,” Charlie had continued. “Whole montage.”

“And now we’re here,” Zari had said. “And that’s Elvis.”

Nate had grimaced for a moment, just to preface his statement. “Please don’t refer to the impersonator as ‘Elvis.’”

“We just did this bit,” John had protested.

Sara had decided it best to ignore both of them. “No cold feet on either end?”

Zari and Charlie had reached for each other’s hand at the same time, a moment of stupid romance that bordered on embarrassing.

“I’m good here.” And Zari had met Charlie’s eyes, feeling that familiar thud of her heart in her chest and that anxious, eager, dry mouthed kind of situation.

Charlie had nipped at her lower lip. A rare sign of consideration. Thinking before speaking. “I don’t feel like running,” she had said.

Zari had nodded at that. “I love you, too.”

Ray had, of course, already begun crying about how much he loved weddings.

 

 

The thing is, Zari could give a big speech about love and forgiveness and getting to know someone and how absolutely smoking hot Charlie looks in her dress. She could pick any one of those topics, right here, right now, in front of her team and Not-Elvis and her actual, literal bride.

But it seems kind of silly. The whole thing is so wildly nontraditional. Very Charlie. 

Very _them._

Also, this is an elopement in Las Vegas. They’re on a clock until the next couple comes in.

Zari studies Charlie’s face for a moment, and then decides on, “You got more beautiful the longer I got to know you.”

Charlie gazes at her like this is the most important thing she’s ever said. Like Charlie has taken the entire thing deeply to heart, feels it in her soul. 

“And I, uh-“ Zari nods to herself. “Thanks for daring me to do this. I really- I really think this is kind of amazing and you’re great and… thank you, in general, I guess. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“I didn’t prepare anything and I’m not planning to start,” Charlie responds, but her voice is just a little higher than normal. “So can I just say that I fucking love you?”

“Yeah,” Zari says. “You can say that.”

Charlie grins at her. “I do fucking love you, by the way.”

“I know,” Zari says, and she says, again, just as easily, “I love you.”

“But you didn’t put ‘fucking’ in it,” Charlie says. “So how can I be sure?”

“Dunno,” Zari says. “Last chance to back out.”

Charlie moves in for the kill. Hand on the back of Zari’s head. “In your dreams, babe.”

She kisses Zari before she even gets the proper permission.

It doesn’t matter. Zari thinks her wife should be allowed to do whatever she wants.


End file.
